Speculum Statua
by ladeesarah001
Summary: One night Godric is followed home by a cat and Isobel opens the door for this small animal to become part of the Dallas Sheriff's nest. I've always wondered what it would be like for a vampire to have a pet. Full summary inside.
1. The Sounds of Silence

Disclaimer – Despite what you may have heard, True Blood isn't mine.

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**Speculum Statua**

One night Godric is followed home by a cat and Isobel opens the door for this small animal to become  
part of the Dallas Sheriff's nest. I've always wondered what it would be like for a vampire to have a pet,  
but as with all of my stories I like twists so take _nothing_ at face value.

Set after the True Blood season 2 Dallas/Godric storyline.

Author: ladeesarah001  
Category: True Blood  
Rating: T (mild coarse language, low level violence)  
Published: June 1, 2010**  
**Completed: March 17, 2011  
Characters: Godric, Eric, Isobel and Stan.

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**1. The Sounds of Silence**

It was a marvel how a few short blocks away there was a busy upper class shopping strip, yet here were disused warehouses. The windows were either broken or boarded over, there was litter and other refuse scattered in the streets and graffiti adorned every surface possible. At the same time it wasn't anything out of the ordinary. This same pattern was repeated in all the great cities across time: the areas where the rich and influential came out to play were well kept, maintained with the utmost care, while the poorer areas of the city were allowed to run wild, the telltale signs of crime and poverty allowed to mar the landscape. These were sad truths that I had become all too familiar with over my last two millennia walking the Earth. My attention was drawn away from the depressing surroundings by the sounds of a struggle. Once upon a time I would have shrugged it off and simply walked away; it was after all none of my business. More recently however, I was taking more and more interest in things that were none of my concern. It was strange, as Sheriff I had more than enough matters to attend to, yet I still followed the sounds quickly coming upon their source.

Surveying the scene in front of me, I counted six large men trying to subdue a young woman; she had been backed into a wall. The men were advancing on her and with my keen eyesight I could discern injuries on all seven. Clearly this woman had been fighting back. As I silently ghosted closer to the group of mortals the wind shifted slightly giving me access to another sense with which to analyse the situation. Breaking centuries of habit, I breathed in, the scents of garbage, sweat, testosterone, urine, blood, adrenalin, mould filling my nostrils. Ignoring those scents that weren't pertinent at present, I zeroed in on the blood. The men were Weres. A faint spark of anger pulsed through me before I returned to my now perpetual state of apathetic dislocation. I rarely felt anything anymore, the most emotion that had passed through me of late had been at the sight of my ethereal Viking warrior, fallen to his knees, with red bloody tears streaming down his face. Anguished despair was something that I had never seen on Eric's face, even though I had turned Eric over one thousand years ago and we had travelled together for centuries. My mind replayed the events from on the roof of the Hotel Camilla.

"_Would you be so cruel?" I had asked Eric when the Viking had threatened to remove me from the rooftop by force._

Eventually, between the astounding sight of Eric's tears, the tears shed by my Childe's human and the revelation that the nameless God that dominated much of the modern world did not punish, but forgave, I had realised that perhaps I did have something to live for. Perhaps _I_ was being the selfish one? I had hoped that the human woman would care for Eric, but even I had to concede that I was assuming too much. She didn't truly belong to my Childe, not yet anyway. I knew from personal experience that whenever Eric desired something he always managed to manoeuvre it into his possession somehow. No matter how inevitable the outcome I couldn't entrust Eric's care to the human.

Unconscionable naivety would be the only explanation for believing that Eric would be able to survive in this world without someone to take care of him. It was true that Eric was a grown man, a fallen warrior when I had found him, but he had always had someone to watch over him; even if just from a distance. Eric's human father had been the chief of his people and even if Eric was a full grown man in his own right and a truly fearsome warrior his father had watched over him, guided him and protected him. Then once Eric was a vampire, he had taken on this role. Really, Eric had never had to survive on his own; someone had always been there to steady him if he had faltered. Leaving Eric alone would have been selfish and might have broken the Viking.

The only thing that had stopped me from seeking his final death earlier was the belief that it was cowardly. Standing on that rooftop with the vampire I knew intimately and the human woman I barely knew at all, I had realised that it truly was the coward's way out. Once that realisation had been made, I led my Childe back into the hotel and had allowed myself to be shepherded to Eric's rooms.

A smile almost graced my features as I remembered raising the question of what I would do now. The human had suggested that Eric wouldn't mind if I moved to Shreveport. Her innocence was truly refreshing. Eric, on the other hand, had resolutely declared that I was the Sheriff of Dallas. When I pointed out that I had willingly stepped down from my position, he just looked at me strangely, shrugged his shoulders and told me to call Nan Flanagan and tell her I'd changed my mind; there was nothing she could do about it. He was right of course, despite her threats to the contrary, and she wasn't at all pleased.

Refocusing on the scene before me, I pondered the best way to intervene. I finally settled on speed. The faster I dealt with the Weres, the less likely the human was to be hurt and the less likely she would see anything that would make her fear me more than she usually would. In a matter of seconds I had dealt with all six Weres. It had been centuries since I had actually had to fight anything; other vampires and supernaturals could instinctively sense my age and power and would avoid a fight at all costs, as a result I was now surrounded by Weres that had been ripped to pieces. Glancing down at my shirtfront and my hands I saw that I was covered in blood, my face probably matched. I was aghast at how the bloodlust had overtaken me, I had never lost control, but my vampiric nature had revelled in the bloodshed. I was no less a vampire now than I had been a millennia ago; the difference was that I chose to temper the bloodlust and my other baser vampire instincts. The human woman must be terrified. I decided the best course of action would be to direct the human to the closest police station, it wasn't far and she hadn't appeared to be too hurt, I doubted that she would allow me to assist her further given how I must now look.

When I turned to the wall, where just moments before the human had been cowering trying desperately to get away from the Weres, there was no one there. Listening intently, I could hear nothing besides the sounds of silence, everything had gone utterly still. She couldn't have gotten far, but there was no sign of her and even more worrisome, I couldn't scent her. It was like she'd never been here. After another minute spent worrying over where the human could have gotten to and why I couldn't smell her, I retrieved my cell phone and called Isobel. A few minutes later she was standing at my side taking in my appearance and the Were bodies strewn around me with carefully concealed horror.

"What happened?" she asked.

"There were six Weres attacking a lone human female so I stopped them," I told her dispassionately.

"Overkill," she muttered to herself before raising her voice back to a normal level. "Do you want it covered up or should I call the Packmaster?"

"Call the Packmaster," I told her resignedly, allowing her other comment to slide.

Twenty minutes later we heard the sound of a pickup making its way towards us and a few minutes later the truck pulled up and two Weres climbed out. The first was Tanner, the Packmaster, and the second was a Were I hadn't met before.

"Sheriff," the Packmaster greeted me, also nodding to Isobel. "This is Crowley," he introduced the other Were.

Isobel and I both nodded in reply. The Weres shifted uncomfortably, waiting for us to give them another cue. When none was forthcoming, Tanner pressed forwards.

"What can I do for you Sheriff?" he asked.

"I was out walking when I came across six Weres attacking what appeared to be a human female so I intervened."

"What makes you think they were part of our pack?" growled Crowley. A brief glimmer of fear ghosted across Tanner's face in response to the younger Were's maladroit remark.

"Nothing," Isobel told them. "Tanner, you are the local Packmaster so we defer to you on all Were related business."

"Right," Tanner agreed, still more than a little uneasy. "Where are the Weres now?"

I had lost interest in the conversation a long time ago and merely gestured to the ground around us. The two Weres gasped as they took in the carnage that surrounded them. Obviously, despite my appearance, they had been willing to hope for the best.

"Shit," they swore in unison.

"The Sheriff was angered when he saw six Weres accosting the human female," Isobel offered in a hopeless attempt to explain the bloodbath.

"Err, what happened to the woman?" Tanner asked with more than a little trepidation.

"That is strange," I told them. "When I turned around she was gone. I cannot find her scent at all; it is as if she was never here."

"Where did you see her last? We'll take a look," Tanner offered.

"Over there against the wall," I gestured to the section of wall as I said the words.

Crowley went over to the wall, trying to sniff out the human. Meanwhile, Tanner stood stock still, surveying the remains of his pack brothers with a mixture of awe, shock and revulsion.

"Tanner," Crowley called. "I can't smell a human. Can you smell anything?"

The Packmaster snapped out of his reverie and joined Crowley by the wall. After Tanner spent a moment analysing the area, the two Weres exchanged a quick look, but not quick enough to escape the notice of a vampire.

"Don't worry about it," Tanner tried to reassure us, his desire to brush the incident off curious and utterly unconvincing. "Weres have a very strong scent. It's probably masking the woman's."

We didn't have any information to the contrary, so Isobel and I acknowledged his words with a nod. With no trace of the woman's scent to corroborate my story this was a very serious offence on my part, that the Packmaster wasn't seeking any retribution was extremely odd; disconcertingly so. Still, there was nothing that could be done without proof, or at the very least, more information. There was little left for Isobel and I to do except wait until the two Weres had collected all that remained of their six comrades before we turned to head back to the nest.

"Something's going on," Isobel murmured to me at a frequency that was too low even for Weres to detect.

"Indeed, but there is no way for us to find out what that is without meddling in Were affairs," I replied just as quietly.

It didn't take long for us to reach the nest; my appearance meant that we had to move too fast for humans to detect us. We paused at the door, just long enough to ascertain that some of the vampires within were accompanied by their human companions, and Isobel entered before me to ensure I had an unobstructed path to my rooms. A few minutes later I emerged, showered and changed into fresh clothing, to the curious looks of the other vampires. Taking a seat in my study I studiously ignored them, other than arriving at my home covered in Were blood, there was no indication that anything out of the ordinary had happened tonight.

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**A/N:** This is a completed story, but I still love reading reviews so drop me a line.

This story hasn't been beta'd, that means there are mistakes. If/when you find one send me a message and I'll fix it up.


	2. Follow Me Home

Disclaimer – My RL name is not Alan Ball or Charlaine Harris... so True Blood ain't mine.

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**2. Follow Me Home**

_The incident_, as all of the vampires in the Area were now referring to it, had occurred only a few days prior and there had still been no word from Tanner. Since there was no evidence to support my assertion that the six Weres had been attacking a human female this was perplexing. The only plausible explanation, and I had come up with many, was that the Weres were hiding something. Only time would tell, but on one thing Isobel and I agreed; that was no human female that the Weres were attacking that night. I hadn't been out walking since that fateful night, but suddenly I was gripped by the need to return to that neglected street. Rising from my chair I walked silently to the front door, the eyes of several vampires followed me, but I paid them no mind.

It didn't take me long to return to the scene of the crime and once there I moved directly to the wall. Maybe I could finally work out what I had seen that night? Unsurprisingly I couldn't identify anything unusual, in fact I couldn't identify anything at all other than Tanner and Crowley; I should have checked that night. The entire situation was niggling at me. I wanted to know what had happened that night simply because I wanted to make sense of what I had seen, but I also wanted to make sense of the situation so that I knew what the Weres were trying to hide. With one last perusal of the wall I had to admit that it was nothing more than a wall.

Turning to leave, I froze when I my hearing locked onto the sound of an approaching heartbeat. Before I could melt into the shadows, I was able to recognise that the heartbeat belonged to a cat; quite unusually it was headed directly this way. Again I turned to start making my way back to the nest, but something made me want to wait for the cat to appear on the street, so I stayed where I was and waited. Soon I could hear the soft footfalls of the cat as it walked towards me and in due course I could see it as well.

I have not had a lot of contact with cats over my long life. My people had not kept cats, although occasionally traders would pass through our lands with cats that they had stolen from the lands now referred to as Egypt. Then once I was a vampire, cats would avoid me, their innate perceptiveness allowing them to sense the danger I posed, sense the predator that I truly am. However, despite my limited experience with cats I could tell the one in front of me, that was making its way ever closer, was a beautiful example. The cat was a pale grey colour with black markings. There were two such markings above the cats eyes, one could imagine them to be the animals eyebrows, and two strong lines streaking away from its eyes, the higher streak starting from the corner of the eye like the kohl women used to decorate their eyes with. The eyes were the most striking. They were a clear, pale blue, the colour of clear blue tropical water that humans so often advertised as the perfect holiday destination.

During my appraisal the cat had gotten impossibly close and when she stopped in front of me and looked up into my eyes I could see exactly why these animals had been so closely associated with witchcraft and why the church had ordered them slaughtered in Europe five centuries ago. This cat's stare was too intelligent though and I tasted the air, checking whether I could discern the essence of a Shifter. There was nothing however, no matter how unusual, this was a perfectly ordinary cat. Finally, satisfied that I would discover nothing more in this dreary and neglected street, I began the walk back to the nest. My return to the nest was met with covert, but interested looks. The vampires gathered were either relieved to see me return blood free, disappointed that I wasn't covered in blood, or simply interested. As was my custom, I ignored them and retired to my study; as Sheriff there was always plenty of paperwork and other menial tasks with which to occupy my time.

"Oh look, a cat," Isobel murmured in surprise as she entered the study.

"Where?" I asked in with mild alarm and surprise, my eyes following Isobel's line of sight to the French doors that connected my study to the rear garden. Sitting by the doors, pawing at the glass panel was the small grey cat I had encountered earlier in the evening. "She must have followed me," I commented to no one in particular.

"She looks hungry," fussed Isobel. "Would you like some milk?" she asked the cat through the glass.

"Isobel..." I started to object.

"I'll get her some milk then we can go over the new applicants seeking permission to settle in the area," Isobel told me before disappearing towards the kitchen; she reappeared moments later with a dish of milk. Pushing the glass door open, Isobel welcomed the cat into the house. The cat entered without a moment's hesitation and started to lap up the milk Isobel had set down for her.

Isobel gazed down at the cat for the briefest moment before turning her attention to the applications. It took us only a few minutes to decide which applications should be accepted, which rejected and which applicants we needed to know more about. During our discussion I could hear the rhythmic lapping of the cat drinking her milk, when the lapping stopped she jumped onto my desk and sat on the form I was just about to sign.

"I used to have a cat when I was human. I wasn't supposed to, but I hid her in the kitchens so everyone thought she was just another kitchen cat for catching mice and rats. She slept on my bed at night though. It's strange that she isn't trying to avoid us," Isobel added as an afterthought. "Once I had been vampire for a few decades I tried to get another cat, but they were all so wary of me."

I didn't say anything in reply, but silently watched Isobel as she lost herself in memories.

"We could keep her," Isobel suggested, suddenly drawn away from her recollections.

"Could we?" I asked her, my tone conveying a warning that my words did not.

"We can and we will, because you'll indulge me," she said with a knowing smile.

"Not if she's going to be a nuisance," I continued to protest, narrowing my gaze as I looked down at the cat, even though Isobel and I both knew that I would allow her this small thing.

"She won't be any trouble at all," Isobel cooed to the cat as she lifted her from the desk and placed her on _my_ chair by the fire. "What should we call her? Aurora? She looks more like a Sophia though."

Before I could tell Isobel that I didn't have an opinion on the subject, Stan strode into the study.

"What is _that_ doing here? Sheriff, do you want me to dispose of it?" Stan quickly noticed the cat.

"You will do no such thing," Isobel snapped. "We're keeping her."

Stan didn't respond directly to Isobel's outburst, but he did turn to me with an incredulous look.

"The animal can do us no ill, Stan. What is the harm in allowing Isobel to keep her?" I lightly admonished him.

"I suppose it can't be any worse than when you let her have a human," he muttered before leaving, Isobel wincing slightly at his unnecessarily harsh words.

"Libitina," I offered, hoping to distract her from Stan's cruel words. Isobel met my eyes. Hers filled with questions and mild confusion, so I explained myself. "A name."

"I like it," Isobel smiled as I left the study and headed to my private rooms, retiring for the day. What I didn't tell her was that Libitina was the Roman goddess of death; Libitina was a fitting name for a cat that was to be a companion to vampires. Libitina was the lesser known of the two Roman gods associated with death so Isobel was unlikely to discover my morbid thoughts unless she actively tried to discover the origins of the name.

Once in my rooms I settled into a chair and began to read, finally setting the book aside when I started to feel the call to sleep. A glance at the clock told me that it was 1 o'clock in the afternoon. I barely needed rest anymore and this was unusually early for me to feel tired; especially when I rested just four nights prior. Discarding my shirt I moved to the bed. I stopped stock still when I noticed it, my body instinctively crouching and angling forward slightly, my hands curling into claws and my fangs starting to run down. It was in the centre of my bed, emitting a rhythmic sound as it slept. The sound was soothing and I quickly connected it with my unusual desire to sleep. Anything that enticed a vampire to sleep more than normal was dangerous however, anything that caused me to sleep for longer or at all even was a welcomed relief. Libitina didn't stir as I lay down beside her.

When I woke up, it was only a half hour to sunset and I hadn't rested that long in centuries, Libitina was gone. Two chapters later and the sun set making it safe to venture out into the main part of the nest. Bypassing the kitchen, I still wasn't hungry; I went directly to the study. Ever since the Fellowship bombed my last residence, the King required nightly updates on all known Fellowship and anti-vampire behaviour in each Area of his Kingdom. This just added to the layers of bureaucracy that I had to wade through as Sheriff, the main inconvenience caused by this particular task was that because it was directly requested by the King I could not delegate it to Stan or Isobel.

An hour later, maybe two, Isobel came in carrying two bottles of TruBlood, Libitina trailing behind her. It must be Thursday. One of the bottles was placed in front of me and Libitina landed graceful on the desk at the same time. Burying my annoyance behind a facade of blank disinterest common to all vampires I started drinking the synthetic blood while my free hand absentmindedly stroked Libitina.

"You bought her a collar?" I asked Isobel, barely concealing my surprise.

"Of course," Isobel replied, as though it were the most natural thing in the world for a vampire to purchase a collar for a cat. "I also picked up registration papers for her."

"Registration papers?" I asked, still confused.

"To register her."

"Why would we need to register her?" I was no longer even attempting to hide my confusion.

"Humans insist that all pets are registered," Isobel continued blithely. "Naturally, there is a small fee to be paid and we'll also have to get her vaccinated. The other thing we need to consider is whether we should get her neutered, if that's done it only costs $7 to register her, if not then it costs $30 plus we need to get an Intact Animal Permit which will cost an additional $70. Oh, and another thing, the Dallas Animal Services website says that registration is free if the owner is over 65 years of age, but I don't think we should bother with that, I don't think you're quite what they had in mind. It also says on the form that you need to be a member of a cat club or complete a course on responsible pet ownership. That sounds tedious, I know you don't approve, but we could just glamour the Animal Service Manager into signing off on completion of the course."

"Isobel," I stated calmly, in a tone that I knew would instantly garner her full attention.

"Yes, Godric?" Isobel's voice was laced with amusement.

"Why do you insist on including me in this?"

"Because Libitina's your cat," Isobel told me, her tone implying that it should have been more than obvious.

"No, Isobel, she is _your_ cat."

"Then why did she sleep in your room during the day?" she challenged with a triumphant smile.

I didn't have anything to refute that observation with. With an uncharacteristic sigh I watched my hand slide through the silky smooth fur that belonged to the petite grey cat, my eyes quickly fixing on her new collar. The collar was beautiful.

"Isobel, is that a diamond?"

Now that I was paying attention to Libitina's collar it looked as though the art deco designs were formed by diamonds. Actually, when I really looked at the collar it appeared to be made from platinum; it resembled a bracelet more than a collar.

"Yes," Isobel conceded. "I couldn't find a collar nice enough for her when I was searching online last night, but then I found this stunning bracelet. The collar is actually made of two bracelets put together. I had it made special order and shipped express; it just arrived a few hours ago."

"And how much did you spend?" I asked, resigned.

"$160,000," she told me sheepishly.

The shock must have been evident on my face.

"It is from Tiffany's," Isobel defended herself.

I didn't bother trying to point out to her how ridiculous it was to spend such a vast sum on a cat; the fact that we had money to burn was completely beside the point. It didn't matter, it was already done. Accepting that there was nothing to be done I turned my attention to the registration papers. Isobel had already filled them out, I just needed to initial and sign them.

**xxx**

Applicant Information  
Applicant's Name: _Godric_  
Street Address: _2710 Maplewood Avenue, Highland Park, TX_  
Apt or Suite #:  
Tel: _(214) 521-2140_  
Fax: _(214) 521-2141_

Identification and Location of Animal  
Name: _Libitina_  
Species: _Cat_  
Gender: _Female_  
Age: _unknown_  
Breed: _Mixed_  
If mixed, prominent breed(s): _Domestic Short Hair_  
Primary Colour: _Grey_  
Secondary Colour: Black

**xxx**

After a few quick movements of my pen the form was complete and I returned it to Isobel, agreeing that this time glamouring the human to approve me as a responsible pet owner was probably for the best. Leaning back in my chair after Isobel had left, I watched as Libitina restlessly pushed at a few stray pens until they fell off the desk and clattered to the floor. _What would Eric think of this? _I thought wryly to myself.

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**A/N:** This is a completed story, but I still love reading reviews so drop me a line.

This story hasn't been beta'd, that means there are mistakes. If/when you find one send me a message and I'll fix it up.


	3. Real World

Disclaimer – None of my blood sweat and/or tears went into the creation of True Blood.

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**3. Real World**

Although many were surprised by Libitina's presence in the nest, her novelty soon wore off. Most surprising was how easily she was accepted by the vampires in the Area. After the initial shock, most vampires either openly accepted her or ignored her and the few who reacted with hostility, like Stan, were quickly dealt with by Isobel who had developed a strong attachment to the small cat. Despite this, she still slept the day away in my rooms; none were foolish enough to comment however.

The most gratifying effect of having the cat in the house was the way that she put the human companions that visited the nest almost completely at ease. I had never seen this before. Certainly, I had encountered the odd 'brave' human who was seemingly unafraid to approach and interact with us, but their calm facade was always betrayed by their heart rate and the amount of adrenaline their heart was rapidly pumping through their system.

Absorbed in thoughts about the positive effects of Isobel convincing me to keep Libitina, not by the literature on how to keep you cat from endangering the local wildlife sent by the American Cat Fancier's Association, was how Isobel found me.

"Godric?" she tentatively interrupted me.

"Isobel," I responded distractedly.

"Anything that would interest me?" she asked, gesturing to the leaflet in my hand.

"Apparently, in order to be a responsible pet owner, we need to furnish Libitina's collar with a bell so that she cannot endanger the local wildlife," I replied, discarding the folded leaflet on my desk.

"I'll ring Tiffany's. They're bound to have something appropriate, maybe something originally intended for a charm bracelet?"

"No doubt they will."

"Surely this is something you would have learned had you actually attended the council's responsible pet ownership course."

"Indeed," I responded with a slight edge to my voice, irritated by Isobel's mirth.

My shortness had silenced the conversation, allowing a pregnant pause to engulf the office.

"Although you needn't go to such lengths, the American Cat Fancier's Association assures me that you can purchase a bell for your cat's collar at any pet store or Wal-Mart," I gesture towards the leaflet on my desk and looked up just in time to see a wave of abject horror wash across her face before she schooled her features.

"No no, I will be able to get something that matches her collar from Tiffany's," Isobel stuttered and I couldn't help but smile in triumph; it was not often that one could fluster a vampire, certainly not Isobel.

"Is there something in particular that I can help you with?" I ask, leaning back in my chair and making a grand sweeping gesture around my office with my arms. I'm delighted by Isobel's livid reaction to the amused smile that is tugging at the corner of my mouth.

"There is actually," she ground out, our banter having temporarily banished the polite deference with which she usually addresses me; it was quite refreshing.

"Do tell," I encouraged her. I know that I am smiling now and could not care less that my behaviour is not becoming of a two thousand year old vampire Sheriff.

"For the last few weeks we have been receiving these," Isobel says as she thrusts a small collection of letters into my hands, already choosing to ignore my unusual behaviour. "I have been ignoring them, but they keep coming and there is no indication that they will abate any time soon."

"What are they?" I ask without even troubling to glance at the papers in my hands.

"Requests for interviews," Isobel tells me bluntly. "It appears that someone's human companion has leaked the fact that there is a cat residing in your nest."

"And why are you telling me this now?"

"Because when you add the four requests that we received today we now have such a number that we are required to notify the AVL."

"I'll take care of it," I assure her with a mental sigh.

Our conversation had roused Libitina who had been curled up asleep atop a decree sent by the King of Texas, a document that I had been reading, but which had been abandoned in favour of the American Cat Fancier's Association leaflet which Libitina appeared to find vastly less comfortable. Despite Libitina's renewed interest, I quickly managed to send a short email to the AVL informing them that I had attracted the media's interest.

Less than an hour later I received a phone call from Nan Flanagan, I hadn't realised that receiving her personal attention was such an honour until I heard her voice bearing down on me through the receiver; she certainly thought her attention a privilege. It took maybe five minutes for me to explain the cause of the interview requests to her and then it took less than five seconds for her to decide that an interview would be excellent publicity. Three hours after that an interview had been scheduled for the following evening.

The interview was completed in less than three hours with a young human female whose parents had named her Monique. Despite her fearful start, the young woman was only trembling slightly by the close of the interview. I felt that the interview went quite well and was pleasantly surprised by the fact that rather than simply asking me a series of questions the human merely encouraged me to speak, only interrupting for clarification or to shift my focus to a new topic. I easily hadn't spoken so many words together for centuries.

Two weeks after the interview the article was published.

**xxx**

_TEXAN VAMPIRE  
An exclusive interview with Dallas' Vampire Sheriff__,__ Godric  
Monique Saunders_

_Over the years popular culture has depicted vampires as anything from clawed monsters and greasy haired Romanians to cultured French aristocrats; we associate vampires with darkness, bats, cobwebs, dungeons and coffins. This modern Texan mansion, situated in an affluent neighbourhood in Dallas, is one of the last places where you would expect to meet a vampire. Yet that is exactly what you will find here._

_Contemporary and modern, this house defies every single vampire stereotype that exists; the house itself exemplifying modern chic, however, if one were inclined to be surprised by the house that is home to the Dallas Vampire Sheriff that fades into the background when you are confronted with the Sheriff himself. While the American Vampire League (AVL) has been busy these past few years assuring the American public that vampires are just like us, Godric sits in sharp contrast to the carefully coifed and styled AVL spokesvampire, Nan Flanagan._

_The Sheriff in no way encapsulates the leather clad stereotype that plagues the modern vampire, but neither does he belong in the same category as Ms. Flanagan. This vampire appears to be no older than fifteen or sixteen, yet as he sits in a designer chair the power that emanates from him is palpable, belying his apparent physical age. The most startling thing about this vampire, however, are his eyes. The eyes are often described as the window to the soul and this vampire is no exception. When you look into his eyes, something that anti-vampire groups strongly recommend against, you can quite clearly see the weight of the volume of years and events that they have seen. It is difficult to reconcile the eyes with his youthful appearance._

_After being offered a choice of tea or coffee I am invited to ask my questions and despite having prepared many, I find myself blurting out the first thing that comes to mind: why do you have four types of coffee and six varieties of tea on hand if you only drink blood? The smile I receive is not unlike the one an adult would give a three year old when indulgently listening to their nonsensical ramblings. While my first response is to be insulted, once I learn that Godric is over two thousand years old I find that I cannot begrudge him his bemused smile. Now why would a vampire keep his kitchen stocked with a selection of tea and coffee you ask. Well, the answer is quite simple. Since the Great Revelation vampires have been increasingly able to socialise with humans and as Dallas Sheriff Godric's nest often serves as a gathering place._

"_Common courtesy dictates that I keep  
something on hand to offer my guests as  
refreshment," he explains with a boyish smile._

_But beyond good Southern manners Godric also enjoys the scent, apparently bergamot is particularly refreshing he tells me with a nod towards my cup of Earl Grey; the particular blend I'm drinking is specially imported from Britain._

_While this explanation easily explains my cup of tea, it does not explain his mug of coffee and I'm forced to ask after it. To answer my question I am invited to smell his coffee and at his prompting I am able to pick out a number of different scents, aromas that Godric assures me are infinitely more complex to a vampire's heightened sense of smell._

"_I also enjoy the warmth," Godric elaborates  
as he cups his coffee mug between his hands._

_Unlike humans vampires do not have any body heat, but they are able to absorb it in a way similar to a lizard when it basks in the sun._

_Filing that interesting titbit of information away, I again strayed from my prepared questions to discover why Godric would refer to his beautiful home as a 'nest.' After all, when I heard him say this I immediately thought of a bird's nest made of twigs or a rat's nest fashioned from trash, not a Texan mansion._

"_I suppose it stems from our past,"  
Godric explains after a moment's thought._

_Before the Great Revelation it was difficult for vampires to move in the human world. Purchasing property was a complex process, let alone living in it, and even then it was not possible to stay in the one area for too long because vampires do not age. Many vampires lived in sewers or in the basements of abandoned buildings and these places where vampires congregated were called nests._

_I must admit that by this point I was extremely surprised by how seemingly open to answering my questions this ancient vampire was; despite the fact that this interview was sanctioned by the AVL. It is relatively common knowledge that while vampires are quite willing to boast about their age, something that is a symbol of status amongst other vampires, they rarely reveal any personal information. Godric again surprised me by quite happily explaining this to me._

_At this point I completely abandoned the list of questions that I had memorised before arriving at _'the nest.'_ I'm sure readers will agree that when you happen across a vampire who is happy to answer questions you ask questions; and they don't necessarily come from the list of questions pre-approved by the AVL. To my delight Godric seems more than happy to answer any and every question that I ask him._

"_What exactly do you want to know?"  
Godric asks, clearly amused by my question._

_When I elaborate on my question, by telling him that I want to know everything I am greeted by the most beautiful sound that I have ever heard; Godric's laughter. Now, I'm certain that many people have heard a vampire growl, it's a terrifying sound, and that slightly less have heard a vampire speak, but you'll agree that it's a beautiful sound. The reason for this, Godric explains, is because traditionally vampires are predators; before the discovery of TruBlood they had to hunt for their food. A vampire is, by design, beautiful and alluring to their prey. Put simply, this explains all of the vampire models out there, but back to the voice. Not all vampires have a hauntingly beautiful voice; personally I find Nan Flanagan's voice to be rather grating. Although some vampires have a naturally seductive tone to their speech, for most, it is a learned skill. Therefore, the older the vampire the more likely they are to possess a distractingly melodic voice._

_Determined not to get sidetracked again I timidly ask Godric about when he was human, does he remember anything? Everything appears to be the answer as he launches into a description of a time and place that is difficult to comprehend._

"_You have to remember that many you would  
consider children were considered men in my time."_

_Pulling at his shirt to reveal a jagged tattoo that appears to encircle his neck he tells me that at sixteen he had already been chief of his tribe for several years. While I attempt to process this information, the ancient vampire continues his narrative, describing how from a young age he had been one of the best hunters, trackers and warriors in his tribe. It was only natural that he would rise to the rank of chief. During his final years as a human he was forced to defend his village from Roman soldiers. His people were victorious many times, but eventually they were overwhelmed. Many of his kin were killed by the Romans; those who were captured or purposely kept alive were taken as slaves._

"_I was gifted to a powerful General, I forget  
his name, branded with the Roman seal and  
transported to his home."_

_In response to the look of horror on my face, the vampire smiled gently at me and explained that he was actually luckier than many others. The General was a kind and fair master, often asking Godric for his opinion on matters of war once his previous station was discovered. Godric was the first to teach the General's son swordplay and later when political machinations caused the family to fall from favour, he ensured the escape of the General's wife and son. It was after he had gotten the pair to the safety of a relative's home that the woman granted him his freedom something that should have been a fortunate turn of events. However, a few days later he was nearly beaten to death by a group of drunken Roman soldiers. That night he was discovered by a vampire and everything changed forever; it was just before his sixteenth birthday. He spent the next two centuries travelling, learning what it meant to be a vampire._

"_I may not have consented, but I was never  
bitter. I would have perished without the  
vampire's intervention."_

_Rather than asking what Godric's favourite blood type is, a question approved by the AVL, I asked what the differences were between being a vampire two thousand years ago and being a vampire now. He smiled sadly at my question before answering candidly. To be a vampire now is much easier than it was even a few centuries ago, firstly, because of TruBlood making it easy to keep sated and secondly, because it is not necessary to hide. A modern vampire has the opportunity to seek their human family and friends out for closure and even maintain contact with them if they aren't too horrified. In the past, however, it was necessary to sever all ties and consequently vampires were consigned to a very lonely existence._

_When I pointed out that he could surely have socialised with other vampires, he snorted; a reaction greatly at odds with the persona he projected. Godric explained that in the past there weren't as many humans for vampires to feed from, and TruBlood certainly wasn't an option, so there were often fights over feeding grounds. As a result it is still extremely rare to meet a vampire who is more than a few centuries old. Those that are are feared and respected because it takes a great deal of strength to stand the test of time. When Godric tells me that of 95% of vampires are less than two hundred years old, I have a much greater appreciation of his immense age._

_At this point of the interview I am well aware that no vampire has ever spoken this candidly about how vampires lived before the discovery of TruBlood and the Great Revelation. It doesn't take much prompting from me to get him to regale me with stories from his length existence. Most of the stories he recounts are truly horrific and I can tell that he monitors my reactions carefully, but when  
I don't interrupt, he continues to speak. In rapt attention, I listen to tales of travelling from village to village, always moving on before there is a danger of discovery, of taking shelter in the earth during the day and of feasting on the blood of dying soldiers on the battlefield._

_Despite the gruesome nature of many of the stories, I am entranced as he describes the exhilaration of fighting alongside humans in the many wars and battles he has witnessed. His fondness for battle reminding me that he was a warrior in his human life. One story in particular about a giant golden haired warrior catches my attention; Godric's admiration palpable._

"_He is the only vampire that I have created  
in my two thousand years on this Earth."_

_The story of the most beautiful and skilled fighter that Godric had ever laid eyes on caused goosebumps to form on my skin – so vivid was his description. It was heartbreaking to hear him describe how he had given the great Viking chieftain the choice he himself had been denied on his deathbed._

_Yes, if you're wondering, the Viking Godric is describing is one and the same as the owner of the aptly named Fangtasia bar in Louisiana._

_Shifting from the past to the present I ask the question that is on the minds of almost every American: if vampires have such a bloody and violent history, how can we trust them? (A question most definitely not pre-approved by the AVL). I feel that it is important to convey the unusually frank answer that the two thousand year old vampire gave me verbatim:_

"_While I cannot sympathise, I can try to understand why humans fear us and are so distrustful. Really, it is not a great mystery; we _are_ scary. Vampires have fangs; we are natural predators and are significantly faster and stronger than humans. I would be concerned if humans didn't fear us. However, the threat that we pose to humans is the same threat that a lion poses to a gazelle; predator to prey. TruBlood and the simple fact that there are humans that willingly allow vampires to feed from them greatly reduce this risk. In Texas alone the number of missing persons reports has dropped from around 17,000 a year to less than 3,500 a year since the introduction of TruBlood."_

"_Also, I think popular culture misrepresents how much blood vampires need; in reality we require very little. A newly turned vampire requires roughly two to four bottles of TruBlood a day and this amount reduces as the vampire ages. After a decade a vampire only needs one bottle every other day and by my age very little at all; I go months in between feedings."_

"_The one thing that I don't think is adequately communicated is how much vampires have benefited from being able to emerge from the shadows and the fringes of society. We can now live in one place without wondering whether the people will notice that we are not aging and we can own businesses or work jobs allowing us to live comfortable lives. The benefits of being able to live out in the open far outweigh the consequences; it is very refreshing to not have to conceal what I am."_

_While I have such an honest vampire seemingly at my mercy, willing to answer my questions, I hazard to ask one more question that the AVL carefully avoids._

"_Oh yes, it tastes revolting, but it is  
a small price to pay. Humans sacrifice one thing  
to gain another all the time."_

_That answers that question._

_The strange report that initiated this interview turns the conversation to much lighter, AVL approved topics. The small grey cat who, just now, decides to occupy the ancient vampire's lap is adorable. Completely at odds with what us ignorant humans would expect, Godric immediately starts to stroke the animal eliciting a loud purr. Such a tiny, innocent action makes me confident that not all vampires are indiscriminate killers as anti-vampire groups would have us believe. My next observation confirms it; the cat's collar is definitely from Tiffany's._

**xxx**

Isobel sets the glossy magazine down on my desk when she had finished reading. "That seems to have gone surprisingly well," she commented.

"Yes," I nodded my agreement.

"Nan Flanagan is probably going to have a few choice words to say though. I think you spent too much time reminiscing over your more bloodthirsty years."

I had to agree with her, but I thought my truthfulness was more important. The AVL had not had much success simply glossing over the fact that less than ten years ago humans were our primary food source.

* * *

**A/N:** This is a completed story, but I still love reading reviews so drop me a line.

This story hasn't been beta'd, that means there are mistakes. If/when you find one send me a message and I'll fix it up.

Note: those missing persons statistics are totally made up (I did a quick search but actual stats weren't easy to find) I have no idea whether they're close to the truth or totally outlandish – I did read somewhere that 4,900 people are reported missing every day in the US though so who knows?


	4. Don't You Know Who I Think I Am?

**Disclaimer:** I'm counting down the days, or month rather, until season 4 starts and I still don't own any of it.

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**4. Don't You Know Who I Think I Am?**

"Yes, it's here," Isobel's accented voice floated into my study.

While I was completing my paperwork for the evening, it didn't stop me from splitting my attention between doing my work and trying to guess what my lieutenant's conversation was about.

"No, he hasn't opened it," Isobel continued, her agitation with the phone call starting to make itself known in the tenor and pitch of her voice. "He's working and hasn't sent for the mail yet."

The quiet, yet subtly shrill, digital beep that reverberated around the otherwise silent nest signalled the end of the phone call. Not before my interest had been piqued however.

"Isobel, can you bring the mail in?" I requested, raising my voice only a little to ensure that it carried to her preternatural ears.

Moments later, Isobel appeared in the doorway with a large assortment of letters clasped in one hand and a substantial box balanced precariously in the other.

"I know there's more than usual, I assume the extra mail is related to the interview," Isobel started to explain. Her voice flattened and dropped an octave before she continued. "Flanagan phoned just after sunset."

"Which pertains to the phone call you received just now?" I asked, gesturing to the letters.

"I'm sorry, Godric, I didn't mean to disturb your work," Isobel quickly apologised as she made room for the box on my desk. "Sorry, Libitina, but there's just no way that you need that much of the desk."

Isobel's actions constantly affirmed that I made a wise decision in choosing her, over Stan, as my second. Her dependability and her small, almost unconscious, gestures made to ease the burden of being Sheriff were invaluable. The part of me that has ensured my survival for over two thousand years appreciated the fact that she lacked the guile and desire to become Sheriff herself. She had no designs on the office that not even I desired, but which the King of Texas bestowed upon me regardless. Isobel didn't understand why Stan was also afforded such status within the Area, couldn't see that the liability he posed was far outweighed by the benefit of the connection he provided to Southern vampires. Still congratulating myself on my advantageous position, I turned my attention to the box on my desk.

"Has it been screened under the new security protocols that the King ordered?" I asked Isobel, cutting the tape away from the box, knowing full well that she would have ensured that the package was thoroughly checked.

"Of course," she replied.

Pushing the flaps of the box open, I was about to pull it closer to make its contents easier to see when I noted that Libitina had repositioned herself at the edge of desk between myself and the box. Quickly scooping her up and placing her back on her side of the desk, I was rewarded with a disdainful look and the ability to easily see into the box. While wondering when part of my desk came to belong to Libitina, I quickly catalogued the box's contents. It was filled with cat toys and other pet accessories.

"Who sent this?" I asked, in a curious state that vacillated between amused and confused, with just the barest hint of irritation was playing around the edges of my subconscious.

"Your Childe," Isobel informed me simply.

Although she hid it well I could tell that she desperately wanted to know what was in the box. Clearly my reaction had only heightened her curiosity. Smirking to myself, I waylaid her further by changing the topic.

"What did Ms. Flanagan say when she called, I assume she left a message."

"Long minutes that despite the prospect of enduring for eternity I feel as though I have been cheated out of," Isobel complained, her sarcasm strangely reminiscent of Eric's Childe, Pamela. The out of character display of unprofessional sarcasm was highly unusual, which only guaranteed that Flanagan had had some choice words to impart.

"Well, what did she say?" I pressed.

"I'll paraphrase because she droned on for ages and most of it was very repetitive," Isobel bargained. "She used some choice words but the general gist of it was that your interview was incredibly irresponsible and has irreparably damaged the reputation of vampires in America. Flanagan also insinuated that your job was on the line... again."

"Nothing new then," I dismissed Flanagan's phone call. She was a young vampire and I knew from past encounters that she tended to react to situations with a lot of emotion, much more than older vampires. Her blatant threat didn't concern me either; she'd uttered the exact same words almost a year ago when she arrived in Dallas to respond to the Fellowship of the Sun incident.

"And she wants you to call her back, Eric too," Isobel added.

"Well, Ms. Flanagan will have to wait because I don't think Eric will. Go through these so I can respond appropriately," I told Isobel, pushing the large box towards her.

Ignoring the shortness of my instructions, Isobel obediently started to rummage through the box and sort its contents. Despite working at a speed only possible for a vampire it took her several minutes to go through every item in the box. Abandoning my responsibilities for the minute, I watched her work, sorting the items into groups: cat food and treats were placed in one pile, toys in another, and accessories in another, every now and then she stopped to coo softly and show one of the items to Libitina. The small feline's affect on the nest was becoming more and more noticeable as each day passed; I was yet to decide whether her influence was good or bad.

"Oh, look at these," Isobel gushed as she pulled the last two items from the box. I leaned forward slightly to see what had captured her attention so, my eyes falling upon two small platinum dishes which were encrusted with diamonds and were clearly from Tiffany's, only to be chagrined when I realised Isobel was still speaking to Libitina. "Aren't these lovely? They match your collar beautifully."

Pushing my irritation aside, I picked up my phone and calmly dialled Eric's number, only to listen bemusedly as the ring was cut off immediately by his eagerness. "Eric," I greeted him coolly.

My conversation with Eric was the only pleasant part of my evening, because even though his amused reaction to my new pet strained my nerves it was much easier to bear than my brief conversation with Flanagan. While Eric laughed and joked about the absurdity of a vampire owning a cat, Flanagan only spoke five words: "I'm coming to see you."

"Is everything well?" Isobel asked me tentatively, not even attempting to mask her concern.

"Flanagan will be coming to the nest to threaten my job in person," I informed Isobel dispassionately, there was no point in trying to conceal it.

"Are you worried?" Isobel clearly was.

"No, I haven't done anything to warrant being dismissed this time," I assured her. "Truthfully, I was surprised that I had remained Sheriff after the Fellowship of the Sun incident."

**xxx**

The following evening found me seated in my office and reflecting on the interview I had given. Human reactions to the article had been varied, but overall I had thought them to be positive and truthfulness had long been a principle that I adhered to. Despite this, I was certain that when Flanagan arrived this evening, she would have some choice words to say about not straying from the AVL's approved message.

Libitina had made herself scare this evening; it was as though she could sense the impending confrontation. But before I could contemplate her absence further, Nan Flanagan arrived accompanied by the King of Texas. A large group of vampires also swept into my nest, the King and Flanagan seating themselves on one of my sofas, their various guards fanning out across the room.

The arrival of the King of Texas, my King, complete with his sizeable entourage was enough to make my stomach sink. Although I had been Sheriff in his employ for over a century, I almost never interacted with him directly; it was a poorly kept secret that I mainly held the position so that he could keep an eye on me. His presence in my home in all of his pomp and ceremony was alarming. The sheer number of vampires present would unnerve a lesser vampire, but what really concerned me was what their presence meant for the tone of the impromptu meeting.

Isobel and Stan stood off to the side looking decidedly uncomfortable. I couldn't fault them for it. Generally, when a Sheriff is replaced their lieutenants are removed also. It is never a good idea to keep around vampires who are more loyal to the old regime than the new. Isobel visibly flinches when Flanagan finally speaks.

"Your interview has been causing us problems Sheriff."

"That was never my intention," I inform her calmly. "I was only following your directions after all."

"Following my directions?" she scoffed, incredulous. "The AVL has a very specific message and your entire interview has set us back years in terms of vampire-human relations. One would think you were trying to steer us back into the Dark Ages!"

"Undoubtedly, you are wondering why I am here," interrupted the King. "It is widely known that I have no interest in this public relations nonsense exempting, of course, the fact that it can provide us with a measure of security."

"Your Majesty," I begin to object, only to be cut off again.

"First the incident at the Fellowship of the Sun last year and then I discover you have given this interview. I _know_ that you are well aware of how precarious our relations with humans and their government are; maintaining the peace is in everyone's best interests. Imagine my displeasure when I discovered the content of your interview."

In spite of the fact that the nest was on edge, after the King's words, the presence of several Weres just outside was only just noticed by us. Usually, Weres are not a threat to a vampire, but a large, organised group, especially one supported by vampires, can be quite deadly. This meeting was quickly spiralling out of control.

"So the question you really came to ask me is: am I the vampire who would be King?" I ask my King, barely controlling my anger. It was a well known fact that I hadn't wanted the position of Sheriff, why would I was to be King? "Majesty," I tried again. "It has never been my intention to cause unrest between vampires and humans. I was one of the great champions of the Great Revelation if you recall and I truly believe that vampires and humans can coexist peaceably. I haven't noticed many particularly strong negative reactions to the interview, most responses have been quite positive, and I'm sure that the human masses can be easily appeased."

"So are we," the King smiled as he spoke, still visibly bristling from my audacious comment. "However, your presence is not necessary to clear this matter up. This, along with your incredible naive behaviour at the Fellowship of the Sun church has rendered you a much greater liability than asset."

"You desire my resignation?" I asked, already prepared to accept to the inevitable and making contingencies for my move to Louisiana in my head.

"No, your threat to my territory has gone beyond that," the King dismissed my offer.

"Sheriff, you appear to have missed the point," Flanagan taunted, standing for the first time. "We're here to eliminate the irritation that you pose, permanently."

Within a fraction of a second every vampire in the room was standing and it is immediately apparent why the King and Flanagan arrived with such large entourages; they needed enough vampires to subdue me. Fangs are extended and it is clear that the situation is no longer spiralling out of control, it _is_ out of control. My survival is my first priority and if at all possible I will protect the members of my nest, but before the room can descend into chaos, four large Weres stalk into the room.

"You summoned us," the second largest, obviously the leader, growled.

"Indeed I did," the King agreed. "I find myself having difficulty controlling one of my Sheriffs."

The four Weres followed the King's lazy hand gesture, their gazes landing on me. Watching them, I could clearly see their pupils dilate as their eyes raked hungrily over my form. Blood addicts. Their dependency appeared to be carefully managed, but it was suddenly very clear why Texas had such a good working relationship with the State's Werepacks. I'd seen Weres addicted to vampire blood before, but these ones were different, far more controlled. These were not of the same pack or master as the ones I had tracked through East Germany with Eric.

"You're going to let us have some?" asked one of the Weres, licking his lips.

"Indeed, _if_ you can catch him," the King's smirk could be heard in his words as clearly as it could be seen on his face.

"Best be careful, he's purportedly over two thousand years old," Flanagan added flippantly.

Everyone in the room tensed at those comments. The bloodshed was expected and the uncertainty of who would fight alongside whom only added to the anticipation. I knew Isobel and even Stan would fight with me, even though I would begrudge them nothing if they fled and attempted to save themselves, there were even some of the King and Flanagan's entourages who I thought might side with me. Then there were those who wore their unease poorly concealed and on their faces, they would either flee the conflict or become the first victims of the violence as their indecision cost them their second-lives.

"What is the meaning of this?" snapped the King, his eyes on the staircase.

As thought it had been commanded, every pair of eyes were turned to the top of the stairs to see, _me_. Time seemed to stop as we all tried to ascertain exactly what we were seeing. Those who had been brought here to attempt to send me to my final death were trying to decide which of us was the real Godric, while I was busily trying to decide how best to turn this new development to my advantage.

"Smells like a vampire," muttered one of the Weres to his white faced companions.

"Your Majesty, we can no longer be party to this," spoke the leader of the Weres. "In this matter we must invoke one of the clauses in our agreement; we will not harm our own interests."

"What do you mean?" demanded the King. "How can _this_ affect your Pack?"

"When the rogue Weres that passed through our territory a little while ago mentioned that there was one living in Dallas we didn't believe them," the Were started to explain, the four of them backing out of the nest carefully, their eyes on my doppelganger and their posture submissive. "They are so rare; we didn't recognise the scent right away."

"What are rare?" snapped Flanagan. "You mean this is some kind of Supe and not some magic to dissuade us from eliminating Godric?"

"They have many names, but their name isn't relevant," continued the Were. "They are immensely powerful and have the ability to bestow a great boon upon a Werepack, we will not invade its home."

"_Its_ home? This is Godric's nest," Flanagan snapped at the Weres' retreating forms.

"What boon? Explain," instructed the King.

The Weres were almost out the door by this stage, steadily retreating as the doppelganger descended the stairs.

"As I'm sure you know, only a female Were's firstborn child is born with the ability to shift," the Were began to explain after flicking his eyes towards my doppelganger and noting its position in the room. "_They_ have the ability to carry more than one Werechild or, if they are angered, they can decimate an entire Pack. I'm sure you've heard of the giant Packs of Europe, that is how they came about."

"Wait," called the King. "It is a Shifter of sorts, yes? It has taken the form of a vampire, Godric, is it as strong?"

"Yes, she has taken the Sheriff's form and will be every bit as strong as he is, stronger if she has ever encountered a vampire who is older. I also doubt that she would have given herself a vampire's weakness to silver or sunlight. The only way to tell her from the Sheriff would be to test their reaction to silver," he answered, before disappearing out the door. The Weres could be heard shifting before they began a steady run away from the nest; they really were having nothing to do with this fight.

"Stand aside," directed one of the King's guards. "This fight does not concern you."

"Does not concern me?" I watched myself ask incredulously. "You attack _my_ home and you presume to tell me that it is not of my concern."

"The cat," Flanagan commented suddenly, seemingly surprised that she had spoken aloud at all. "You've been living here as a cat?"

All at once many things began to made sense. The young woman cornered by the Weres, the cat that followed me home, my doppelganger, they were all just the same creature in different forms. My musing was interrupted by two large vampires lunging towards my doppelganger. One minute the doppelganger was standing at the foot of the stairs and the next they were standing beside me, the two vampires having barely covered half the distance originally between them and my doppelganger. Every vampire in the room was struck by the awesome display of speed and floored by what it meant for the creature's strength; especially if the relationship between its speed and strength was correlated in the same way as that of a vampire, which would make sense since the creature had currently assumed the form of a vampire.

Muttering across the room drew me back to the present. The doppelganger stood tall and relaxed by my side, exactly as I myself was standing, but the vampires across the room were agitated and frantically discussing something, while Isobel and Stan had begun to quietly move towards us.

"They seem to be worried about the doppelganger... Libitina's... strength," commented Isobel once she had made it to our side. "They don't know whether she is so strong because she has encountered another, older, vampire or whether that was a display of your power."

"I honestly don't know," I replied, answered Isobel's unspoken question. "It has been a long time since I have had to actively defend myself from something that matched me for strength and power, I honestly don't know how strong I am anymore."

This answer didn't seem to mollify Isobel in the slightest, but it did serve to further agitate the other vampires in the room. The hurriedly whispered conversation had turned to how they could gracefully extricate themselves from the situation. Eventually Flanagan straightened and took a tentative step in our direction, my doppelganger not reacting to her approach at all, which seemed to boost her confidence.

"Well, Sheriff, given this new development the AVL feels that it would be best if you retained your position, pending review at a later date," she decreed before turning and sweeping from the room, not waiting for a response and seemingly fearful of my, or my doppelganger's, reaction to her words.

"It appears my hands are tied," commented the King; his nervousness readily apparent. "Since Flanagan and the AVL have given you their support I cannot remove you at this time, but know that I am keeping a very close eye on you."

Not waiting for a response or reaction of any kind either, the King and his sizeable entourage also exited the nest, leaving in its wake an awkward silence. After several minutes, when it was safe to assume that they had all left and were not returning any time soon, my doppelganger turned from and began to ascend the stairs. Isobel, Stand and I just stood dumbly, and watched her leave. Watching myself walk away up the stairs was incredibly surreal and the lack of explanation for what just occurred incredibly unsatisfying.

* * *

**A/N:** This is a completed story, but I still love reading reviews so drop me a line.

This story hasn't been beta'd, that means there are mistakes. If/when you find one send me a message and I'll fix it up.


	5. Undisclosed Desires

**Disclaimer:** True Blood isn't mine, but a certain kitty cat and an entire new species is.

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**5. Undisclosed Desires**

By the time I had ascended the stairs and reached my room, my doppelganger was nowhere to be seen. Instead, Libitina was curled up, content, in the centre of my bed. She looked as though she had claimed this position an eternity ago, but I had learned that cats had the ability to portray this illusion when, in reality, they had only just settled down to sleep. Libitina didn't react to my entrance and, for a moment, I was at a loss for what to do.

"I know it's you," I told her, remembering why I had followed my doppelganger upstairs in the first place. I, the Nest, needed answers.

An ear twitched at my words, but otherwise I received no response.

"I know," I repeated softly. "I know that you were the young woman cornered by those Weres, just as I know that you are my cat, Libitina, and I know that you are the one that took my form just a few short minutes ago."

Still, received no response, Libitina didn't even twitch.

"Say something," a growl of irritation slipping into my voice as I pled with the cat.

The lack of response from Libitina was disconcerting and if the appearance of a carbon copy of me hadn't been witnessed by Stan and Isobel, as well as several others, I would have begun to question my sanity. I knew that I had been losing my connection to the world, to the present, that time was slipping by without my consciously noticing it. In the modern era vampires had entered a strange time where the older or ancient vampires perished not in battle or at the hand of a younger vampire plotting their own ascension through the ranks, but at the own hand once their mind could no longer justify their continued existence. I was one such vampire. My mortal ties to the world had perished millennia ago, leaving Eric as my only connection to the world. Eric was the only reason I continued to exist. I had reconciled myself with this simple fact a long time ago. I knew that Eric was a powerful vampire in his own right, with an unrivalled lust for life, a formidable warrior, but still very attached to me and I worried over how he would react to news of my final death.

I had imagined many things over the last few centuries, but I knew that I had been perfectly lucid during the confrontation with the King and Flanagan, I had heard my doppelganger speak and I had witnessed several powerful Weres flee in fear.

"I know you can speak," I told Libitina, settling against the headboard and beginning to stroke my fingers though her silky hair. "I know I didn't imagine that."

Sighing softly to myself, when I still received no response, I closed my eyes and titled my head back. Silently berating myself for sighting, vampires didn't sigh, humans did, and I began to wonder who decided that vampires didn't sigh when we all started out as humans anyway. Since my cat hadn't deigned to speak to me, something not entirely out of character, I didn't pay her any mind when she shifted from the centre of the bed and came to sit beside me. My eyes quickly flew open, however, when the air in the room shifted and I felt a ripple of raw magic flow through the room. The sight that greeted me wasn't Libitina stretched out on my pillows, but of the young blonde woman from all those nights ago, mirroring my position against the headboard.

Centuries ago, I had learned that knowing and seeing were two entirely different creatures. The shock of seeing the young woman again was no exception and I hadn't even had my eyes open to witness the transformation. I imagined that it would be similar to when Weres shifted between their human and animal forms. Unlike my first encounter with her in this form, I took the time to really study her. She was short by the modern standards and I estimated that she would just barely eclipse the height of my shoulder. Her hair was a shade of blonde no longer seen in this time of hair salon, it was a colour that a modern human would categorise as boring and immediately alter with dyes and pigments. Neither fat nor so rakishly thin as to give the appearance of a prepubescent boy, her body did not conform to the current trends, her naturally rounded stomach would be labelled fat is considered by a human of the current period. Her hair was not perfectly straight or coaxed into artful waves and curls, it just was. Natural, was the only word available to me with which to accurately describe her, plain and boring were words that a human would probably elect to utilise. Searching the scant few memories I still possessed of being human I realised she was not unlike the women who would have been around me, although none of those women would have had blonde hair.

"Cat's don't talk," a gentle voice told me, jarring me away from my analysis of the being inside me.

"But the Dallas Weres said you are capable of combining attributes from many different sources, surely you could make yourself talk," I offered my observation in response to her words.

"True, but that is a simplistic interpretation of my abilities," she replied with a half smile. "A cat's vocal chords have not evolved to produce the variety of sounds needed to mimic human speech, nor do they possess the brain capacity."

I had to concede that it was, in fact, a rather complicated concept. It would be far simple to combine attributes from different example of the same species than it would be to combine characteristics from different species. As I considered her words, my eyes fell upon the art deco styled necklace that encircled her neck. It was the same as the one that Isobel had improvised as a collar for Libitina.

"What are you?" I finally ask.

"Something and at the same time nothing," she replied without imparting any useful information. "We have, in the past, been called Mimics or Mirrors because of our abilities that are so similar to that of a Shifter, but our ability to change is far more fluid and dynamic."

"I don't understand," I confess.

"Well," she paused to gather her thoughts into a clearer explanation. "A Shifter can only copy a specific form, so the name, Mimic, would be far more appropriate for them. I, on the other hand, can alter the nature of the parts that make up my being so I can create a carbon copy or I can assemble an entirely new entity from components I have encountered. I am restricted far less than a Shifter. In fact, my kind is probably responsible for the myths about chimeras and manticores."

"That is why you were clothed when you shifted into a human while Shifters and Weres are not?"

"Correct, I can absorb the clothing into myself when I change from a human form or create it when I change into a human."

Silently, I contemplate her words. It is very unusual for a Supernatural creature to reveal much information about themselves so I am thankful for what appears to be her candour. It is just as unusual for me to encounter something new.

"What is your name?" I ask after a long spell of silence between the two of us.

"I don't have one, I have never had need of one before," she tells me without a trace of sadness or bitterness in her voice, which surprises me.

"Do you like the name Libitina?" I continue with my slew of mundane questions, suddenly feeling anxious at the prospect of an answer to this one.

"A little depressing perhaps," she muses. "But it is the only one I have ever had and it suits the cat of a vampire."

"But you aren't just a cat," I press, not assured in the least by her non-committal answer.

"Perhaps, but for much of the time I am."

I digest her words. The concept of not having a name is so incredibly foreign to me that it is difficult to comprehend. There are other Supes for whom it is not the case, but for humans, vampires, Weres and Shifters a name is tied very closely to ones knowledge of self and identity, their place in the world and their heritage. To not have a name is a very alien idea. In many of the ancient schools of magic a name holds great meaning and the secret to gaining mastery of a being. In times not too long passed I had to protect my name as though it were a jealously guarded secret to ensure that the knowledge wasn't used against me.

"You said that others have called you Mimic or Mirror, what does your kind call yourself?" the words escape my lips as soon as the question enters my mind.

"Protean."

'Not a talkative creature,' I think to myself, not that I'd ever be considered chatty. I played with the word a bit to see if I had ever encountered it or anything of its ilk before, but I didn't think I had. It was similar to Proteus, a name from a myth or tale that I had heard once upon a time, but it was not of my people and I hadn't troubled to memorise the details of the story. It didn't take long for me to conclude that I hadn't ever encountered or heard of a Protean during my time on the Earth.

"Why did you intervene before?" I finally ask a more poignant question. What she was was far less important that what motivated her actions.

"I told you, this is my home," cam her instant reply, which served to answer nothing.

"I remember, but why did you make this your home?" I pressed.

"You are here," she answered simply.

"So you followed me because I saved, or defended you, rather," I corrected my slip. After her display earlier in the evening I was under no illusions that she needed my protection.

"No, I had been looking for you for a long time," Libitina answered me patiently. "I have come close to catching up with you in the past, but have either just missed you or lose your scent before I can catch up."

"Scent?" I ask dumbly, my stomach shifting uncomfortably.

"We choose a mate by scent. Perhaps companion is a better word? Mate implies a sexual relationship and usually a mutual one, whereas we seek out the one we wish to be close to and we do not need the attachment to be reciprocated."

"So you just want to live here as my cat?" I'm incredulous at her lack of motivation to aspire to anything. None of her behaviour makes any sense to me and it is unnerving.

"Yes, it is enough to simply be around you."

"Why a cat though? Why not approach me as a human or another vampire? Vampires are not known for allowing other creatures to reside in their nests."

"You are not like other vampires, Godric, and although you have been searching for companionship, for a reason to continue, you have not been seeking that kind of relationship."

"If I'm to understand you correctly, the last few centuries I have been roaming listlessly, searching for a pet cat."

"Not exactly," she said with a laugh. "Maybe not a cat specifically, but you have been searching."

"How long does your kind live?" I ask after I realise that I would never willing become attached to something with a finite lifespan, especially not one so short as a cat's.

"I do not know. All I know is that I would be considered very old, even by a vampire."

"Can you die?"

"Possibly, I am yet to die and I have never met one of my kind who has died. I do not know."

Before today I had never received such a strong of unsatisfactory answers and I was quickly losing my patience with Libitina.

"I have heard of one of us to change form into a tree after the death of their mate. A tree has no conscious thoughts so there was no way for them to change into another form and eventually trees perish like so many other mortal creatures. So to answer your question I could die, but I would have to make the conscious decision to do so, for while I can remain in a form and allow myself to age I can too easily alter my form."

"Beheading?" I suggest; it was the key to killing so many creatures.

"It hurts, but is hardly fatal," she smiles.

"Your kind is truly immortal," I comment, stunned.

"Perhaps, I haven't lived forever yet, so I can't answer definitively. Now, it's mid-morning and you should rest."

"Rest?"

"Yes, you need to die for the day, despite your impressive age it still isn't healthy for you to remain awake so long; you didn't retire at all last night."

Her instruction was baffling. I'd been a vampire for two thousand years and no one had ever put me to bed before. Despite the absurdity, I couldn't deny the truth behind her words. It was unhealthy for vampires to force themselves to stay awake during the daylight hours. After sending a glare in Libitina's direction I stretched out and allowed myself to slip into a death sleep wondering if she could make herself into a Fairy; Fairy blood was such a delicacy. Not once did I consider the possibility of her harming me during the day.

FIN.

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**A/N:** This is a completed story, but I still love reading reviews so drop me a line.

This story hasn't been beta'd, that means there are mistakes. If/when you find one send me a message and I'll fix it up.

**APPENDIX:**

Chimera – (pronounce kai-mare-ah) according to Greek mythology, a monstrous fire-breathing female creature composed of the parts of multiple animals: upon the body of a lioness with a tail that ended in a snake's head, the head of a goat arose on her back at the centre of her spine.

Don't You Know Who I Think I Am? (Chaoter four) – a song by Fall Out Boy

Follow Me Home (Chapter two) – a song by Dire Straits

Libitina – Roman goddess of death, corpses and funerals

Manticore – a legendary creature similar to the Egyptian sphinx. It has the body of a red lion, a human head with three rows of sharp teeth (like a shark), and a trumpet-like voice. Other aspects of the creature vary from story to story. It may be horned, winged, or both. The tail is that of either a dragon or a scorpion, and it may shoot poisonous spines to either paralyse or kill its victims

Proteus – a man given the ability to change into any form by the god Poseidon

Real World (Chapter three) – a song by All American Rejects

Sounds of Silence (Chapter one) – a song by Simon & Garfunkel

Undisclosed Desires (Chapter five) – a song by Muse


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